“A little better, but not much,” Evan said. “I don’t know why it’s taking so long. Those bloody doctors just say it’s an unknown bug and leave it at that. I hate to see her as weak as this. She still won’t eat—” Suddenly a picture formed in his head of Betsy sitting on the counter as he carved the lamb. She had sat on his counter like that on the evening that Bronwen became ill. She had been in the kitchen as he prepared the meal. And she had asked him that question—if there was no Bronwen, would he notice her then? Was it too absurd to think that she might have put something in Bronwen’s food? Was it also too absurd to think that she might have spiked Randy Wunderlich’s coffee?
Chapter 20
Excerpt from The Way of the Druid by Rhiannon
The Cycle of the Druid Year
We believe there is a deep and mysterious connection between our individual lives and the life force of our planet. Therefore, we recognize eight occasions during the yearly cycle that are significant to us and we mark them by special ceremonies.
Four of our special ceremonies are solar, four are lunar—a balance between the feminine and the masculine, the Goddess and the Sun God.
At the solstices the sun is revered—in the glory of its maximum power in midsummer and in the quiet of its near-death in midwinter. At the equinoxes day and night are balanced. These are the times of planting and of harvest. In spring we sow and in autumn we reap the fruits of our toil.
Then there are four more ceremonies, during the year. This is the cycle of the land of planting and harvest.
At Samhuinn, on October 31st, livestock used to be slaughtered before the winter when there was no fodder. At Imboic, on February 2nd, lambs were born. Beltane, on May Ist, was the time of mating and purifying. Lughnasadh, on August 1st, was the time of harvest.
We celebrate these festivals to remind us that our lives are intervowen with the cycle of the year. We see them as more than festivals of farming. On October 31 time stands still. The veil between this world and the other is lifted. The spirits of the dead walk among us. We make contact to share their wisdom and inspiration. The dead are honored and feasted as guardians of the tribe.
The winter solstice, called in the Druid tradition Alban Arthan—the Light of Arthur—is the time of death and rebirth. In the darkness we throw away those things that have been holding us back. One lamp is lit from flint and raised to the East. A year is reborn and a new cycle begins.
On February 2nd, called Imboic in the Druid tradition, is the celebration of the first snowdrop, the melting of the snows. Lambs are born. It is a gentle festival in which the Mother Goddess is honored with eight candles rising out of the water at the center of the ceremonial circle.
It is interesting to note that the Christians have adopted our ceremony as Candlemas. Our aspect of the Goddess is as inspiration of poets and healers. We celebrate in poetry and song. It is a good time for the eisteddfod.
At the spring equinox we celebrate the equality of night and day, the flowers of spring, and the time of snowing.
Beltane, which we Welsh call Calan Mai, is the feast of fertility, fire, and purification. We light the twin fires. In former times cattle were driven between them to assure fertility. Those who wish to conceive a child jump over the fire. Those who wish to be purified walk through it.
At the summer solstice we hold our longest ceremony. On the eve of the solstice we hold a vigil throughout the night. We mark the coming of dawn with a ceremony to celebrate the Sun God at his most powerful.
On August 1st is the ceremony of hay gathering. It is a ceremony of gathering together, of marriages. A wheel is passed around our circle to symbolize the turning of the year.
Last in our year is the autumn equinox, September 21st. In this ceremony we give thanks for the fruits of the earth and for the goodness of the Mother Goddess.
And what do these ceremonies truly mean for us? We no longer plant and sow, most of us. They represent the cycle of our lives. In the spring ceremonies we rejoice in youth. Spring makes us feel young again. The fires give us new life and vitality. In summer we celebrate the fullness of our blossoming into maturity, of parenthood, and our place in society. In autumn we rejoice in the harvest of our lives—be it creative works, children, or material success. As winter comes, we approach our declining years without fear and rejoice in the wisdom of age.
On Monday morning Evan opened up the police station at nine o’clock sharp and started on his report for the previous week. He hadn’t slept well last night. He knew he was being ridiculous to suspect Betsy, but the nagging doubt wouldn’t go away. He remembered how devious she could be when she tried—how she had shown up in her bikini and even dressed herself as a grandmother to try and get a part in a film when a film crew had come to the area a few months ago. She was a person who would take strong measures to get what she wanted, that was for sure. But to go as far as hurting somebody, even trying to kill somebody? Evan had always thought that Betsy had a kind heart. Now he didn’t know what to think, or how to follow up on his suspicions.
Wait and see, he decided. Let the detectives do their work and see what they come up with. He had only been working for a few minutes when his phone rang.
“Evan, this is Glynis. How are you?” As always she sounded bright and cheerful, full of energy and enthusiasm. Before he could answer, she went on. “Listen, I had to call you right away about that torch you found. That was brilliant of you to find it and to wrap it so carefully in your handkerchief like that. We got some super prints, not smudged at all.”
“Do you know whose?”
“Oh, yes. They all belong to Randy Wunderlich. His are the only prints on the torch.”
“Interesting,” he said. “So I was right in my hunch. He did intend to do his meditating in the upper cave, not the lower one. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would even go in that horrible place, especially not when the upper cave has such a fantastic view and is high and dry.”
“So what do you think happened? Why did he change his mind?” Glynis asked.
“I really don’t know … .”
“Oh come on, Evan. You’re really good at this. Your hunches are always spot on. What made him go down to the lower cave?”
